The Wire

Episode Report Card
Wing Chun: B+ | 1 USERS: A
"Don't Worry, Kid. You're Still On The Clock."

Port of Baltimore, elsewhere. Horseface gets started on the Esmeralda.

Back in the detail office, Beadie watches a digital container come down off the ship...

...while on the dock, Horseface supervises the same. Sergei, in a safety-orange vest, is off to the side, near a truck, talking on his cell phone. The crane goes back up to grab another container; Horseface punches a couple of numbers into his handheld...

...and back at the detail office, Beadie watches the container disappear. She excitedly springs into action, Lester making sure she gets down the container number. It pops up on Beadie's screen, and Lester radios Kima...

...who's all in a hardhat and jumpsuit, clipboard in hand magically rendering her invisible. Lester tells Kima that they've got a disappeared container, and reads off the number. Kima doesn't even need to write it down; she can see it clearly displayed on the container that has just been dropped onto Sergei's truck, and tells Lester as much. Lester then radios to Prez, warning him that a "live one" is on its way. He asks what he should be looking for, and Kima jumps in to give everyone Sergei's physical description. Lester asks Beadie what's next, and she reports that either Sergei will take it through checkout, "in which case it might be that Horseface just entered the wrong container number and they find it there." We watch as Sergei finishes hooking the container to the chassis and climbs into the cab. The other possibility, says Beadie, is that "it goes out Bobtail Lane." Kima starts her truck. Beadie explains, "If it does that, they're doing the dirt." Lester radios to Kima, telling her to stay on the truck until it clears the yard, and asking her to let them know whether it stops at the checkout point, or goes straight out. Kima follows, at a reasonable distance, and radios that Sergei went around the checkout. Back at the office, Lester and Beadie smirk at each other. Lester then radios to Prez, telling him that the target's coming toward him. A moment later, Prez sees Sergei's truck pull out of the yard, and follows. THEN, Lester radios to Bunk, to tell him to keep an eye out as well. Bunk copies, and soon sees the truck roll by, Prez right on his ass. "He's all yours, Bunk," radios Prez. Bunk copies that and rolls out. Intricate, and yet a little dull. I feel like now I actually have an idea of what police work is like.

So Prez has now pulled off, leaving Bunk to follow Sergei. The truck presently brakes, and turns into a gate in an industrial area; once he's through, an underling who totally doesn't look like any kind of dock or warehouse worker, in his nicely fitted jeans and leather jacket, hurries out and closes the gate again. Bunk watches as the underling then sprints away. Bunk radios to Lester, reporting the location on Newkirk. He says he'll "swing back and get a 20," and we watch him do so; he rolls down his window and radios that it is a warehouse: "Pyramid, Incorporated. 5605 Newkirk." Beadie writes it down. Lester copies. Bunk lights a cigar. Nice work, team! Now, to convince someone that there's probable cause here for...well, anything at all, really.

Prison. Stringer's talking to Avon, commiserating that Brianna seems to be blaming Avon for D'Angelo's death. Avon mopes, but doesn't say anything. Stringer, squinting with "concern," asks whether Avon knew that D'Angelo was using drugs. Avon sighs, and admits, "I seen it, but I didn't see it. I mean, he came up off that shit. Then we did our thing with that guard, and I thought..." He pulls the phone away from his ear and sort of wags it back and forth, shrugging. He rubs his mouth, and then picks up the phone again: "Fuck." Stringer reports that the "homegoing...came off nice." Avon looks a little relieved about that. Stringer says that "everybody showed." Avon asks how Brianna was. "Rough," says Stringer, blinking. Avon, plaintively: "Don't nobody want shit like this to happen, man! If I would've known the boy was gonna be doing some shit like that, man -- you know what I mean?" Stringer, still frowning in his "grief," fishes around to find out what "the prison people" are saying about D'Angelo's death -- "that he just hung himself like that?" Avon chews his mouth before sighing that D'Angelo "just tied a rope around a knob and sat his ass down." Stringer studies Avon, who breaks off again and looks away. "Yo, how the fuck you gonna stop a man from doing some shit like that?" murmurs Stringer. "Huh? I mean, what are you gonna do? Stay with him every damn minute, every day you can?" Avon looks like the answer to that rhetorical question might be yes, as far as he is concerned. Stringer: "He gonna find a way if he wants to." Avon drops his chin. Stringer: "It ain't on you." Avon looks up sharply. "It ain't," Stringer insists. "I would tell you if it was." Avon rubs his chin with the receiver. Stringer, his eyes very sad, pounds his fist against the glass, and after a moment, Avon pounds it back. Stringer huffs loudly, and then, the emotional cleansing having been dispensed with, Avon returns to business: "What's up with that other thing, man?" Stringer shit-talks their supply: "Your man in Atlanta -- he don't know what raw is. We gonna discount it?" "Do I look like Kmart to you, man?" snaps Avon. Stringer pretends to try to explain himself, but Avon's not having it: "Re-package it, man, and sell it off." Stringer tells Avon about Prop Joe's...well, proposition, saying that "it's a thought," but Avon insists that they can't even entertain the notion: "We're gonna get through all this, you hear me? We're gonna get through all of this." Stringer says he knows. Avon: "All of it." Yes, yes. New packaging's going to save your product. But from what I hear, Coca-Cola Classic, this shit ain't.

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The Wire




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